


Phantom Pain

by Oducchan



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, He's remembering his own death ok, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Graphic Description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oducchan/pseuds/Oducchan
Summary: For a split second, the crowbar glints, catching the flebile light from the ceiling lights and reflecting it right in his eyes, and it’salmostbeautiful.Happy Death-versay, Jaylad
Kudos: 29





	Phantom Pain

**Author's Note:**

> (Ok so I basically wrote it by impromptu, I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. Hope you can enjoy?)

**Phantom pain**

“Hood?”

For a split second, the crowbar glints, catching the flebile light from the ceiling lamps and reflecting it right in his eyes, and it’s

_ almost _

beautiful.

It reminds him of one of the Gotham’s nights,

the moon glimpsing between the clouds and kissing the city with her pale yellow lips -the steel profiles of Batman’s armor, the sidewalks, the gargoyles on top of Gotham’s skyscrapers.

It reminds him on one of the few instances of happiness he can remember

-the ache in his tender joints after running on one roof after the other, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the wind swishing in his hair and the rustles of Batman cape

behind him

beside him

around him

That blinding, overwhelming, exhilarating feeling of freedom

And then the crowbar moves, down

down

d o w n

And the memories slip through his fingers in an explosion of red and  _ pain _ .

“Jason, are you alright?”

Later, he would have remembered all of it, so clearly. The pain, the blood, the sickening crack of his bones, the squishing sounds of his organs squashed under that sheer

crazy

violence.

He can’t remember dying, he can’t remember slipping away, letting it ends, but he remember the before, all the excruciating seconds that led to that moment.

He remembers that laugh, most of all. More than the fear, more the stark realization that there wasn’t gonna be an happily ever after, more than the inexorable ticking toward the climax, he remembers that laugh.

He remember telling Dick, he never liked clowns.

“Jason? Talk to me”

Red Hood hisses, taking a big breath to steady himself, and pushes himself away from the wall he just stumbled into. He takes a step, clutches his side, and just breathes.

His lungs are not smashed in a pulp anymore, and air can go in and come out; his legs are not broken anymore, he can run away from this dumb stake out he consented to if he wants; his hands are not stained in blood he’s not spilling tonight. His body is not being beaten up, he’s fine, he’s healthy, and it’s just his mind playing a dirty trick on him.

He can live another day

And then forget.

“Stop squealing like a teenager, Dickface, I’m perfectly fine. Where did you say the target is?”

And then forget the pain of dying, and the agony of coming back.


End file.
